5 Bodies To Die For

“I’ll let you make it up to me.”

A knock sounded at the front door. When Carlotta went to check, she was relieved to see Detective Jack Terry standing on the stoop, large and competent. Not stopping to analyze the rush of emotion that his presence triggered, she opened the door, her mood dimming at the sight of Jack’s new partner, Detective Maria Marquez, standing behind him.

“Hey,” Jack said, his rocky face solemn. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, come on in.” She stepped aside and nodded to Maria as the woman walked by. Scant hours ago, she’d seen both of them at the memorial service for A.D.A. Cheryl Meriwether. When she’d first called Jack after she’d found Michael’s clothes, he’d told her he was busy, but would be there soon. In the background, she thought she’d heard Maria and other noises that made her wonder if Jack had already found a new project for his tool.

The woman was stunning, to be sure, with honey-colored hair, almond-shaped eyes and curves all up and down the highway. Worse, the woman was smart—a profiler who had recently relocated from Chicago. She was single and, based on a phone call that Carlotta had overheard while Maria had once babysat her, the woman had left an unhappy situation. She was ripe for the picking, and Jack had good hands.

The two of them made a spectacular-looking couple, Carlotta conceded as she closed the door behind them.

From the couch, Peter awkwardly pushed himself into a sitting position. The bag of frozen peas slid off his head and landed on the floor with a smack. Jack leaned over to pick them up and handed them back to Peter with a little smile.

“I heard that Carlotta lit you up with her stun baton.”

Peter looked up at him, but the movement made him grimace. “She has good reflexes.”

Jack looked back to her and smiled. “Yes, she does.”

Carlotta gave him a warning glance.

“We need to take a look in your parents’ room,” he said, suddenly all business.

“Go for it,” Carlotta said, leading them down the hall. Jack and Maria stopped at the closed door to pull on gloves and slip paper booties over their shoes.

Jack turned the knob and pushed open the door. “What made you come in here? Did you hear a noise?”

“No.” She hung back in the doorway while they proceeded into the room that was pretty much the way her parents had left it, aside from being searched by the police after the couple had disappeared. Carlotta’s gaze went to the box of dried-up cigars on her father’s nightstand. One of the charms left in the mouth of a victim was a miniature cigar, and in light of the other suspicions leveled against her father, she had simply wanted to check out his stash…and maybe get rid of it, so the police didn’t have any other circumstantial evidence against Randolph.

Jack followed her line of sight to the cigar box and nodded in mute understanding. In a shared glance, he telegraphed that Marquez didn’t have to know…for now.

“When I walked in,” Carlotta continued, “the room felt different—cleaner, for one thing. I could smell antiseptic. Then I noticed the scrubs and recognized them as the ones Michael had been wearing when he jumped off the bridge.”

Maria looked incredulous. “How could someone have been living in here and you not know it?”

Carlotta bristled. Maria had accused her of being a little clueless in other areas of her life before—like when it came to knowing things about her best friend, Hannah Kizer, for example. The woman must be convinced that Carlotta was oblivious to everything going on around her, and at the moment it was hard to argue the point. “I dust in here occasionally, but normally the room is closed off. There’s really no reason for me or Wesley to come in here.”

Jack walked over to inspect the door leading out to the deck. “This is how Lane got in and out?”

“Probably. We keep that door dead-bolted, and it was unlocked when I came in.”

“Are there signs that he was in other parts of the house?”

Carlotta squirmed. “Uh, yeah. He did…chores.”

Maria arched a beautiful eyebrow. “You mean, like washing dishes?”

“And…laundry. And running the vacuum and…I think he might have mopped the kitchen floor.”

Maria laughed. “He was doing housework, and you didn’t notice?”

Carlotta gritted her teeth. “That’s right. Are you annoyed, Detective, that this doesn’t fit the profile you worked up for Michael Lane? You did say he’d kill me if he got the chance. Obviously, you were wrong.”

“Lucky for you,” Maria said pointedly.

“What’s with the masks?” Jack cut in, nodding to the two colorful masks lying on the floor—a dog and a cat.

Carlotta stooped to retrieve them. “Peter brought them. He was wearing the dog mask when he came up behind me. That’s why I used the stun baton—I didn’t realize it was him.”

Jack frowned. “Why the hell was he wearing a dog mask?”

“It’s a scene in a movie,” Maria said, snapping her fingers.

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” Carlotta murmured, fingering the masks. The scene where Paul and Holly steal masks from a toy shop during their day-long love splurge. Her favorite scene, and Peter had remembered.

Jack looked utterly lost. “Does this have anything to do with our crime scene?”

Carlotta shook her head and backed away. “I think I’ll let you two do your job. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

She turned and walked back down the hall to her bedroom, thinking of what she needed to pack. Her skin crawled anew at the thought of Michael strolling through their house, ransacking drawers, eating snacks and watching TV. Had he stood over her while she slept and considered finishing her off?

She walked into the girlish room that hadn’t changed much since they’d moved in after her parents had lost their big home in the exclusive area of Buckhead, after her father had been fired from his job at an investments firm where he’d been accused of bilking clients. She hung the masks on the corner of her dresser mirror, then went over to the white four-poster bed to pull out a suitcase from underneath it, then set the bag on top of the coverlet. She’d be glad to get away from this room, away from this town house for a while. Staying with Peter would be like going on vacation…as long as she could keep things between them from moving along too quickly.

Carlotta removed clothes and shoes from her closet, packing the suitcase as tightly as she could, wondering how long she would be away and how this one decision might change her life forever.

At a rap on the door, she turned to see Jack stick his head inside. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” She turned back to her task of removing underwear from her dresser drawer.

“Going somewhere?” Jack asked.

She folded a pair of red lace panties and set them on top of the pile of clothes. “Peter invited me to stay with him for a while, and I accepted.”

Jack picked up the red panties between thumb and finger to study them. “You’re moving in with Ashford?”

“No,” she corrected, still folding underwear. “I’m staying with Peter until things settle down around here.”

“Until I catch The Charmed Killer?”

She nodded and instinctively wrapped her hand over the charm bracelet she wore. The charms were supposedly prophetic, but so far, they’d only proved to be disconcerting. After all, a killer was on the loose using the trinkets as his signature.

Jack pursed his mouth. “I think it’s a good idea.”

She gave a little laugh. “I thought you might since you said I should marry Peter.”

“That’s not why I think it’s a good idea.” He brought the panties to his face.

Carlotta snatched them away. “Then why?”